


Every Song

by sarcat



Category: Morning Glories
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcat/pseuds/sarcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And he burns every song, lets them all play on repeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satellites (radish_earring)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=satellites+%28radish_earring%29).



> A while ago, I asked Gwen to tell me what the soundtrack of her life would sound like. I didn't give a reason, just hoped beyond hope that I could take some of the songs there and use them to inspire a fic that was personal, that really could mean something to her. So that's what I did. I took some of your songs Gwen, and found my favorite lyrics and wrote you some Casey and Hunter things to match them. 
> 
> I am sorry for being such an awful friend. This is your birthday gift and I am only just giving it to you now. I was terrified to write this especially with how well you write Hunter and Casey to begin with. But I hope I haven't butchered any of them and I hope this sounds even remotely appealing in some way. *hugs you* Love you lots dear!

_**but I feel alive, oh, I feel it in me**_  
 _ **up and up we keep on climbing**_  
 _ **higher and higher and higher**_  ([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6NqCRYy68s))

She’s burning. She’s burning to the point of delirium, clinging to his arm like it counts towards her life, fingers screaming into the skin near his elbow. She’s burning alive and there’s not much he can do except bring the back of his hand every so often to her forehead, past strands of matted down blonde, and confirm her fever that he already knows about.

She doesn’t let him forget for a second. Not once with her frenzy does she let him forget who she is or that she’s really, really there and desperate.

She needs him. And he’s not good at being that person. No one ever needs him. He can’t be here and be of any use to her. But even when the thought of his uselessness surfaces, she reminds him to stay with quiet murmurs he can’t understand and hands that grip his, so sure that it convinces him that he’s in the right place at the right time.

This is precious to him. She’s precious. Oh, man, she’s really precious. And his teeth dig into his lower lip because damn it just make it through this, Casey, or I’m going to go out of my mind, okay? (He still needs permission from her to be that out of control with worry.)

“It hurts,” she wails for a third time.

That just drains her. Her head rolls back in a groan, draped over the arm that’s cradling her.

He’s about to lose it. No. No. NO. NO. NO.

Hunter’s not good with this at all. Someone else. There is someone else that can make her better, and he can find them, and everything will be okay again. And he swallows so hard when it becomes that overwhelming.

Hunter breaks his own sob with the grinding of his teeth. And when he comes down from the agony of his broken thoughts, he closes his eyes so tight that he sees stars. “Casey? Casey, come on. Come on!”

She doesn’t move. Not with any of his pleas. He hunches forward, his own elbow digging into his knee as his hand drives itself straight for his unruly hair. He blinks and tugs all in the same second. He tugs again, eyes roving over the stillness of her face, and if he never thought to look at the uneven rise and fall of her chest he might just think she were gone completely.

She might as well be.  She’s an unhealthy color now, no heat to her cheeks or skin. She’s just cold. She’s grey, ashen until the moon blinks through the shutters and falls over her fingers, her arms, her neck, her face, her hair. And Casey becomes something there. She’s ethereal. And he still can’t take his eyes off of her, can’t fathom being pulled away from her in this state (because maybe if he does she’ll be just as gone as his mom is).

He swallows. The lump in his throat clears and his resolve returns and he forgets about being scared. He chooses to remember to keep holding her hand, to keep supporting her head in the crook of his arm, to keep her name heavy on his tongue, to make her realize that she’s right here with him and that it is rude to ever think of leaving him.

“Casey? Casey. I’m here.” He says it like a promise.

Casey heaves suddenly, long and hard, filling her lungs so quick to throw the air back out again. Her face scrunches, eyebrows knitting themselves together before she grips Hunter’s hand back with enough force she might just break his fingers.

“Hunter, don’t leave. Just don’t.”

He’s not even sure if that is what she is really saying. It’s so weak and drawn that he forces himself to believe she meant something else, that she was merely biting back another wave of incoherent agony that sounded something close to those words. Casey wouldn’t say something to him like that. He needed her. She didn’t need him. He could believe that.

He answers anyway. “Never.”

He can wait. Time is invaluable to him. He can give her time, his hand, the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the vomit that inevitably escapes her and dribbles from the side of her mouth.

She’s struggling to relax. It’s all over her face and in the strain of her neck as she wrestles for some comfort in his arms. And he feels so dumb just smiling at the fight still left in her body, lips quivering into a quiet happiness over her like always.

“Not for a second. I’m still here, so just get better. That’s all I need for you to do.”

She rewards him with blue eyes, just barely there and squeezed between eyelashes so thick. He holds his breath, let’s her look and know and memorize who she’s with and where.

And now she’s alive. There’s some kind of life there that isn’t writhing, just gripping onto existence for dear life by the threads of blue woven into her iris. And each heave of her chest is a place higher on the mountain she’s climbing.

She nods her head unintelligibly to his words, curls a little more into him without meaning to when her eyes can’t hold themselves open anymore.

He’ll be waiting at the top.  

* * *

**_Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself  
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else? _**([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaZGHcFTTHw))

Top three mistakes in his life: Missing the movie marathon night at the Bloor two summers ago, not holding his mother’s hand enough, and of course everything about this very moment.

His hand finds the back of his neck as soon as the question escapes him, fingers rubbing deep circles into skin deeply rushed with a blush that’s rising to the very tips of his ears. It’s his immediate remedy, a luxury within his own turmoil.

She steps forward, and it does everything but knock him off his feet. His elbow drops, and his palm runs itself smooth to the base of his neck. This motion is the only thing coherent about him now, and it’s definitely not helping that Casey is staring at him, lips slightly parted and eyes wide as if someone had just sucked every last bit of oxygen from the atmosphere. It makes it almost nearly impossible to concentrate on anything other than the floor. He could deal with the floor and the rapid succession of his heart, hammering a staccato of life against his ribcage.

She brings a closed fist to her mouth, coughing to clear the air between them. “We can’t…Hunter, you know we can’t…”

Even if he was expecting those words, he still feels his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. “Oh…”

She breathes out a sigh that he can practically feel all around him. “I—“

“Casey, don’t,” he finds himself saying way too quickly. He can suddenly feel how close he actually is to her, feel their knees barely touching, see in great detail every strand of sunny blonde hair still safely in place. “I shouldn’t have asked. It was just…”

He drops his hand immediately to his side and slides a considerable distance away from her on Jun’s bed, the top half of his body twisting itself in the direction of the door. “I honestly shouldn’t even have asked.”

Fingers fall on top of his as he feels the weight of the bed shift heavy after him. He retracts his hand almost immediately, like he idiotically landed it on top of a burning hot stove. (It burns all the same.)

“Sorry!” It’s all he hears her fumble out before his head is whipping in her direction, and he sees the way she darts her gaze to the floor automatically to avoid his. “That was an accident. I meant to—”

His hands move of their own accord, pulling her curled fingers gripping onto the sheets into his. If there’s resistance, he doesn’t notice it. All he can do is concentrate his energy into his thumbs, stroking back and forth across the back of her hand until he finally gets her to look at him.

“Is this an accident too? Are we an accident? Cause I kind of have to know now. This kind of thing is important to know,” he questions with a faint hitch in his voice.

She breaks his grip, dropping her hands into her lap. “Hunter, you always blow things out of proportion. You’re pretty ridiculous.”

It’s hard not to take it the wrong way, and it’s no surprise to him how small he suddenly feels here sitting beside her. And he absolutely regrets saying anything at all because at least five minutes ago when he wasn’t asking if they could actually be a thing they were smiling and they were talking about math and she was giggling over his pathetic imitation of the Chemistry teacher.  And for the first time in months he felt like the ground wasn’t going to swallow him up while he was in her presence. He honestly felt happy. No guilt for enjoying her company or keeping her there till the very last minute when they knowingly expect the guards to tap on the door to remind them about curfew.

He does something stupid. He throws himself at her, hands gripping either side of her face and just kisses her straight on the lips. There’s no danger when he does it, but he knows that at any given moment his heart could find a way to pound itself straight out of his chest and on to the floor, or maybe Casey could manage a way to pound him to the floor instead.

A second goes by and then another and another and her lips are still soft and melded to his. It’s only then that he winds himself down from the adrenaline rush that accompanies his warm cheeks. And now he can feel the locks of hair he’s ensnared between his fingers when he scooped her face into his palms, the sensation of his thumb failing to be a stranger against her cheek as it coasts its way along her skin.   

He pulls away. The idiot pulls away to take in a desperate breath with their foreheads mashed together and his fingers still trapped in the labyrinth of her perfectly soft curls. He closes his eyes and feels her breath skirt over his chin just as her hands come to settle over his gently. The nervous laugh that pours out of him shakes all the way up his spine and straight to his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” she says. The words wrap themselves around his neck and he greedily takes another gulp of air before pulling away a great distance to look at her honestly.

“Sorry?” he repeats.

“I can’t do this.”

“We just did!” he answers back with wild eyes.

“You did, Hunter! I didn’t do this!” she shouts back.

“You liked it. You like us! When we’re togeth—“

She jumps to her feet, fists raised near her temples in anguish. “Together? Do you know what they can do with that?”

He looks at her shaking shoulders, the strength balled up within her to keep her from raising her voice even higher. It makes him slump forward, elbows meeting his knees. “The academy?”

She hugs her arms closer to her chest, tapping her foot lightly on the floor before nodding her head solemnly. “We can’t do this. There’s just no way. It puts us all in danger and I can’t take that risk. I…I hope you can understand.”

Hunter brings his hands together, head rolling itself up to look at her as she got closer and closer to his door. “You have a great way of letting a guy down there, Casey.”

She stops just before she can reach the knob, turning her head over her shoulder to look at him with a strained look on her face. “It’s better this way. You have to trust me on this.”

She’s gone. The door clicks shut, the words still not wrung out from his lips. “All I do is trust you.”

* * *

**_But when the stars are the only things we share  
Will you be there? _**([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JrW8D4loEXI))

“So, I used to love you?”

She hesitates, taking extra breaths before deciding to answer him at all.

“You did…” she finally answers honestly, and there should be more to it, an answer more involved that he deserves, but she’s silenced by the nerves bubbling in her stomach.

This is the first time he doesn’t sneer at her, doesn’t make her feel less than dirt, but it somehow makes her feel more vulnerable than she’s ever felt being near him. Her shoulders stiffen immediately when he throws his head back to drink in the stars and bathe in the light of the moon.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all,” he laughs, chest full and rattling in delight.

She just continues staring, trying to pretend that nothing has changed at all, that his laugh was always that loud and his eyes weren’t so vacant. She doesn’t say a word, just lets him ponder over the two words that slip out of her mouth thoughtlessly.

She pulls at the grass, hands ripping into the earth with more anger than she means to. “It does actually. That was who you were.”

“That’s almost convincing considering I remember nothing after being in Nine’s office. I guess anything is possible, huh?” He turns, lips spread into an even grin for her. And that’s the most he’ll give her that looks anything like the Hunter she used to know.

She’s hasty. She fists his collar in her greedy hands and brings him as close as she’ll allow this time, her whole body trembling with an anger the blossoms and burns to the top of her cheeks.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you piece of shit! You loved me. You loved me without fear and that was the bravest thing you ever did. You almost died for me. You left me flowers on my desk even when I wouldn’t look at you, even when I didn’t deserve you!” her breath comes out hot, rolling over his tightly set jaw. “You tried getting me into comics once. You spent hours looking for one that reminded you of me. Like fuck me, how ignorant was I? You know what I did with that comic? I left it on my desk. I didn’t read a page and I just let all my papers pile on top of it. I’m so fucking dumb. But somehow…you still wanted me! You still thought I was worth it. You willingly threw your body over mine while someone whipped you to a delirious half-consciousness. I’m pretty sure you would give me your life if you could bottle it up like a possession. And I wouldn’t. I would never do those things for you.”

Her gaze is heavy, and the stars in his hallow eyes almost make him look like he’s there somewhere and hanging on every word. “I’m so sorry, Hunter. I’m sorry.”

Her hands lose their grip, and she’s back on her feet in an instance. She wipes at her eyes, turning away from him quickly with apologies still heavy on her tongue.

She doesn’t look back.

* * *

_**First kiss ever I took, like a page from a romance book,**  
 **the sky opened and the earth shook, down on Copperline, down on Copperline.**  _([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWeaO4ZobeA))

“It’s only been ten minutes, Hunter,” she reminds him.

“Ten minutes a bit too long. Ike and Jade should be here already, shouldn’t they? What if something happened to them?” Hunter questions, eyes darting once again from one end of the hallway to the other. 

Casey doesn’t busy him with a worried look. She instead becomes fixated on a shadow that looks too human to be as lifeless as it is, waiting to grow itself up to overwhelm the surrounding fluorescent lights. Hunter watches her jaw clench, pulls on every detail that is the curve of her neck and the quick bounce of blonde curls that sweeps across her shoulders when she tosses her head in his direction just to tell him to go, to move. 

He hops in surprise, only really moving when he sees Casey already running past him down the hall with the words hurry up heavy on her feet. He goes. And he’s soon on her heels, head looking over his shoulder every so often to make sure that they weren’t in danger of being caught.

A few times he’s not so smooth, the motion of his turn making him hop a little more than he wants to, almost making him trip all over his feet—the watch strapped on his wrist feels particularly heavy with guilt today as he rights himself once again. And it’s not like he’s ever going to learn from his past mistakes because he’s already whipping his head back towards the empty hall, the tip of his toe catching the ground and his arms flailing above him as he tumbles forward to the ground in a mess of limbs.

“Hunter!”

It’s too painful to hear his name right now. He’s rolling to his side, gripping at his chin after falling on it with a sickening smack against the floor, tongue caught between his teeth. The pain swells the longer he stays connected with the cold floor, eyes clenched and hands searching out and away from him for some type of support that might help get him through this. He soon feels slender fingers curl around his wrist, jerking him into motion with the highest urgency. He tries to suppress a groan, feet trying to get traction against the ground to haul him back up while swallowing down the metallic taste now coating his tongue and the inside of his mouth. His feet fail him, and he’s met with another jostle of his arm and a squeeze that brands her nails into his skin, leaving deep crescent kisses near his bright blue veins.

With little grace, he obliges, getting up without her having to resort to using words to motivate him. She’s pulling him up just a second later while he’s swirling his tongue around, vision readjusting itself to the bleary pain that was hazing over his gaze.

Her hand never lets his wrist go, holding on to him with a vice grip that might leave him bruised if something urges her to squeeze any harder. And with a look that tells him everything he ever wants to know, that they are still okay somehow, they’re off to running again, forgetting the meaning of tired limbs and screaming muscles in their wake.

He lets his mind numb any sensation past his waist, thinking only of making it back and not getting caught by whatever is following them this late at night. His eyes connect with her fingers, and as frightened as he feels his heart feels the lightest it’s ever been, content.

His thoughts break when she forces him abruptly around the corner, running until they reach the next to hide themselves behind. Her hand claps itself over his mouth, fingers closing their distance between each other to ensure no sudden yelps or unnecessary chatter that could tip their follower off.

Quiet, quiet. That’s what he can read through her eyes when she finally gives him a second he doesn’t think he deserves. They’re much richer in the dark, stealing the first winks of a dark blue sky within them that makes him shutter something bad.

When he tries to move his lips, she narrows her eyes and readjusts her hand over his mouth discouragingly. Not now. But the movement only makes things worse because his lips are in her palm, and he’s never actually been this close, her body pressed into his to minimize their existence to the space around them.  

His fingers twitch at either side of him, groping at the wall behind him with nothing better to do until she finally releases him, gives him space to breathe something in that wasn’t his hot breath against her hand.

She stays close for an unnecessary minute too long, pressed into his side as she too wrestles for her own air.    

“I think he’s gone. He has to be. We’ve been here for twenty minutes,” she whispers, the swell of her lips moving him into a trance that has him nodding idiotically, “Hunter? Did you hear me?”

He snaps out of it, eyes wide and hair tossed in a frenzy at her inquiry. “I…yes I’m perfect. I mean fine. Definitely fine.”

“We need to go before whatever that was comes back looking for us. Let whatever is going on in that head of yours go right now because we have to leave.”

He can’t just do that though. He still feels warm, still feels the pressure against his mouth and on his wrist and he hopes it scars him because it’s as close to her as he might ever get.  At the very least he can tell himself what it feels like to know her on his lips.

And that thought alone helps them both get back to their rooms safely.

* * *

**_We are lost in the sound_**  
 ** _Close your eyes_**  
 ** _And I will twirl you around_** ([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZrc1wjr70E))

“I don’t know. I didn’t really grow up with it being a priority,” he answers lazily, hands steadied at her waist.

“Well, you aren’t exactly half bad at it, so I am surprised,” Casey tells him, rocking her bare feet into the carpet back and forth from side to side.

“I think I can handle swaying as long as I keep my eyes open. Anything requiring more complicated steps might end us both in the nurse’s office,” he jests, arms still stiff.

She hums a chuckle that hangs on to the shell of his ear, and makes him close his eyes without meaning to. They fly back open as soon as she yelps, and he lifts his foot immediately away from hers, the beginnings of a ten page essay about why he is sorry ready to fly from his mouth.

“You closed your eyes.” Like it didn’t matter that he he’d done something so irresponsible, so stupid… “You must really want to go to the nurse’s office, and hold me prisoner there too. That’s very unlike you, Hunter.”

“Definitely not!” he argues, eyes fluttering between hers and their feet as he tries to remember the rhythm they once had. “I screwed up, Casey. I do that a lot. I’m sorry.”

She grabs his hand into hers, lifting it up just past her shoulders, and she leads him again. “Not another apology out of you. We only have about two days to look like a normal couple on the dance floor and I want to at least have two good dancing shots by the end of the night.”

He trips over his words before settling on an okay that he shakes furiously with a bob of his head.

And then it’s six and then it’s seven and by eight she’s resting her head on his shoulder, their feet still and his hands enveloping her, fingers just missing strands of her hair.

“Casey? Casey? Did you fall asleep?”

“Not once,” she finally whispers into the thick wool of his sweater vest, “Spin me…just once more…”

* * *

**_The road gets cold, there’s no spring in the meadow this year  
I’m the new chicken clucking open hearts and ears_ **([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s830CSutPoE))

That’s not him.  No matter the color of his eyes, tried and true and green, the look he gives her is anything but his, anything but human. He bares his teeth, lips raised in a rabid snarl that makes her hands tremble, the corners of her eyes sting with heat. And she knows then that he’s no longer hers.   

He growls low, the roar that follows rattling around deep within him before coming out in a cloud of furry from his mouth. He pushes his body violently towards her, saliva flying out of him like his words. “YOU BITCH! I’LL RIP YOU APART!”

Jun reels him back, arms hooked in his as Hunter falls back clumsily into his chest cursing excitedly.

That’s not him. No. There’s no way. Casey lifts her head up towards the ceiling, threatening her tears back with her own ferocity. And with enough pressure on her thigh, she pushes herself up off the floor and rubs at her eyes until they go pink and raw in hopes of seeing Hunter again if she forces them open.

“Hunter, what happened to you?” And her throat sounds hoarse, like she’s been holding back these words for decades, just waiting for him to hear them.

When he doesn’t respond immediately, she balls her hands into fists that rest eagerly at her sides and bobs herself forward with her face screwed into the same expression of animosity he now wears.

“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HUNTER!? TELL ME! TELL ME NOW!” she spits out, hands thrown apart in complete exasperation.

There’s a fear she doesn’t know she has until his head rolls awkwardly to the left to spare her a sharp grin that makes her want to throw up right then and there.

“He’s standing right in front of you, Casey? Can’t you tell?” he mocks with no remorse, empty eyes rising to meet hers through a storm of red, red strands. “It should be pretty obvious especially considering how much I’ve always hated you, hmm?”

He’s twitching, his shoulders twitch like he’s holding back a laugh that could destroy her, crumble her. And all she can do is bring a shaky hand to cover her lips and try her very best to breathe in evenly behind muffled ‘no’s stuck at the back of her throat.

Somehow this is her fault. It’s all her fault, and looking at the shock of murder in his eyes doesn’t do much to quell the ache that’s hanging heavy in her chest.

“You’re not. This is just a nightmare. You’re a nightmare.” And she’s already convinced herself she can wake up from it, maybe if she digs her hands into her scalp and pulses her fingers through her hair and pulls until she can’t stop screaming.

He whips his body violently left then right, and she’s sure that if he keeps it up with that much force he might just snap his arms in half. He continues to contort himself no matter how many times she shouts for him to stop, eyes just as wild and confused as ever. He’s desperate to reach her, desperate to wrap his hands back around her throat and dry her of every drop of air she’s managed to squeeze back into her lungs when Jun had forced him off of her only minutes before.

“SAY IT! SAY IT AGAIN YOU WHORE? TELL ME THAT YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE ME. ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?” he bellows, the vein above his forehead throbbing something revolting.  

His look is breaking her. There’s nothing there. It’s only anger and murder defined with smooth strokes along the path of his irises. Darker. Deeper. Empty. There’s no more admiration. There’s no more thoughtfulness or wisps of hope dimpled at his cheeks. It’s all harmful. All hard lines etched into the sharp angles of his face. And he wants to do her every single harm imaginable, all framed behind disheveled hair that’s so familiar, so red that she may decide to bleed to try and match it and remember.

“DID YOU KNOW I’M GOING TO FUCKING MURDER YOU!? DID YOU HEAR ME, CASEY?!”

He says it with teeth and rage and spit and gums, and it silences her. It catches every single word she could ever think of saying to deny him of this, and leaves it lodged in the back of her throat with other things she could never bring herself to tell him in the first place.

Her name sounds ugly on his tongue.

“Casey? I think the best thing that you can do right now, is leave,” Jun finally insists through clenched teeth, pulling back fiercely once more to quiet Hunter’s frantic advancements with arms just as powerful as his brother’s.

But honestly, all she hears are Hunter’s struggles, every muscle screaming to escape Jun’s grasp and follow through with every threat.

Hunter grunts, a deep breath of desperation pulling through flared nostrils as his eyes fall to Casey once more. The simple sight fuels his rage once more, pulses through him so violently that his whole body quakes with a renewed energy that even Jun is having a hard time containing.

“He’s stable when you’re not around. You need to just leave,” Jun insists.

Her feet can’t move. She’s frozen in place just staring at a boy she can no longer recognize until Jun’s shouting at her too.

“GET OUT!”

And she does. She leaves and runs and runs until her muscles are screaming at her to stop from the sudden burst she originally flew off with.Everything is ruined. And Jade meets her at the door, doesn’t ask her a single question when she can’t stand, and her knees buckle and she’s rubbing her face even though the tears have long since dried on her cheeks.

“He’s gone, Jade. He’s gone.”

* * *

**_It takes a man to live  
It takes a woman to make him compromise_**([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4cgB_e-8To))

He’s still messed up as hell. It’s been seven years and countless nightmares since and an eternity’s worth of screams he will always hear, that he’ll never be able to halt from slipping past the pillow he forces over his ears at night. They’ve separated. All of them. And even if he doesn’t hear from them ever, he knows they’re just as screwed up as him. Just as tired and maybe even worse off.

Everyone else tells him he’ll get better. The best shrinks in the country think they have him all figured out, but he’s still knotted over things he’ll never fully understand while juggling nine different medications he pretends to take.

This is his life. It’s riddled with disappointment and tears and fears he’ll never bring up on his own. It’s a hallowed up feeling at two in the morning when he’s drenched in his own sweat and screaming after his mother, telling her that she needs to stay this time because he’s alone and scared and he just needs to hear her to feel sane. She just has to stay.

But she never does. And he’s just as broken up and choking on sobs alone in the dark. Scared to venture back into any kind of slumber that might make him this wild again, that might force his sheets to slip into a crumpled pile on the floor beside his bed and his arms to go scrambling for someone who isn’t there.

He never gets better. He stays in his cramped apartment, eats, bundles himself up with two extra sweaters when his old radiator decides to give, and he lives because surviving sounds way more depressing when he thinks about it for way too long.

These peeling walls keep only him in. He lets everyone else walk out, let’s them leave when they want to. And they always do. He can’t keep them here. He’s a disaster of a person and this is honestly for the best. So he accepts it much like he accepts everything else in his life, running blindly head first and plummeting the rest of the way down.

The loneliness makes his eyes less green, and his empty arms and broken promises keep his heart just as swollen.

It’s the first day of winter in Toronto, but it feels like the twentieth with the amount of snow they’ve already gotten and the empty top ramen cups piling around his garbage can. His belly is a little fuller, but his hair is still sharply red and sloppy.

Hunter goes to add to the pile of cups, balancing the newest one on a tower that’s already leaning. The doorbell rings, and his hand accidently knocks the tower over, spilling the little drops of soup left in the cups on his bright white floor.

“Hold on! Hold on!” he shouts, scooping the mess up back on top of the cover of his garbage can.

Everything else can wait, the drops he steps on he’ll worry about later. He’s too busy being drawn to the door. It’s the first time in weeks he’s heard it, and it does something to pick up his mood.

“Sorry! Just a sec!” he reassures the newcomer, not bothering to look through the peephole before sliding his lock away and turning at the knob.

“Helloo-oh?” he starts off strongly, the door swung open with enthusiasm, but it dies there with wide eyes and his slackened jaw.

He grabs the door, ready to force it shut again, but a gloved hand stops him from getting it fully shut.

“No. I’m not doing this again.” It’s heated. It’s bringing strength to his arms.

“Hunter!” Just as melodious as he remembers, and his strength leaves him completely.

He leans his head into the door, not pushing it any further, but also not wanting to make it an invitation for her to enter.  “Why are you here?”

“Can I come in?”

“No…” It doesn’t sound very strong.

“Oh.”

It’s quiet, but he knows she’s still there, her gloved hand sandwiched in the space between the door and its frame.

“Why are you here?” he asks again, “Why me?”

“Just because…Hunter…”

He throws the door back open, fury drinking up the last of green in his irises and charring them over like coal. “NO! Just no! You can’t just walk back into my life and expect that everything is just going to be okay and normal. How many years? I don’t even know. I don’t even care. BUT ALL OF A SUDDEN IT’S OKAY TO COME BACK. It’s OKAY to know I exist. Well, fuck you, Casey. Go to hell!”

She meets his eyes before he can get a hold of the door to swing it shut and cut himself off from her once and for all. But she’s got a power over him, much stronger than her words used to be.

His heart flutters into a calm, the blood running quiet by his ears once again until he’s found absolute stillness, peace.

“Hunter…let me in…”

His limbs want to move, they want to let her pass, but he remains planted firmly in the doorway.

She’s quiet, her eyes just as sharp as he remembers. And just when he thinks she’ll stare him down for a simple victory on her part, she slumps her shoulders forward and turns to look at a blank spot just beyond his shoulders. 

“Because I still need you…”

He steps aside.


End file.
